Best Laid Plans
by Scribe Shan
Summary: A simple Friday afternoon errand takes an unexpected turn and has lasting ramifications for both Donna and Josh.
1. Chapter 1

**Spoilers**: Everything is fair game up through "Disaster Relief." It's canon up to that point, with one major exception: Sam's still around! There's no special background you need on that, just that he's still Deputy Communications Director and still his adorable self. Hey, I miss him, so I took a little artistic license. Heavy spoilers in the beginning of the story for Season 5.

**Disclaimer: **Lucky people who don't know me own the West Wing and all its characters/concepts. Your old friends you recognize herein aren't mine. A few new friends you'll meet along the way are. It's all just for fun, much like when Margaret practices the President's signature.

**Author's Notes: **This story is complete and has been posted over on the JDFF Yahoo! Boards, so if it seems familiar, that's why. I'm going to publish a few chapters here and there as I get the chance, but I plan to update regularly. This is my first time to post on the boards, so bear with me as I learn the rules.

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Chapter 1

Donna made her way down Pennsylvania Avenue at a brisk pace, a most uncharacteristic scowl marring her features. It had been, some would say, a textbook "one of those days." And it wasn't nearly over.

In the late afternoon sun, she made her way to what she was sure would, sadly, prove to be the highlight of her day. Dinner. Well, lunch, actually, if you didn't count the wilted salad and day-old muffin she and Josh had shared while they worked straight through in his office. Even with the two of them sharing it, the meal had been so unenjoyable, most of it had gone uneaten.

So, what did you call a meal that was a combination of lunch and dinner? Linner? No, it needed to follow the same grammatical guidelines as "brunch." So that would make it...dunch?

OK. Her mental state was worse than she thought. She was going to need more coffee. Long as this day was going to be, there would be no harm in making it a few minutes longer and stopping for a Frappucino on the way back.

Make that two Frappucinos, she amended. Unless, of course, she wanted to share hers with Josh. Oh, he could complain all he wanted to about how sissy it was. That it wasn't real coffee unless it was strong, hot and black. But the truth was he loved Frappucinos, if only because he could drink cold coffee faster. Faster caffeine intake meant faster, better work. Faster work was a good thing.

It had been like this for a month now. Normal workdays in the West Wing were cruel and unusual compared to most of the corporate world, but the workload this month was literally beyond belief. Josh was in Round 12 of what was proving to be a very long fight with the Blue Dog Congressmen on the Hill, and he was about to resort to threatening them with bodily harm if they didn't step back to the President's side and tow the party line on the next phase of the teaching incentives program.

And Donna cursed herself for it because her current misery was all her own doing. Damned "What A Shame" file. She smiled to herself ruefully. _Donna Moss, ladies and gentlemen. The only woman who cares so much about her boss that she'll create more work for him AND herself just to momentarily get him to lose that kicked-puppy look that makes her want to cry. Let's give her a big hand!_

Yeah. Better make it two double-shot Frappucinos.

Still, she had to admit, it was worth it. It had been a couple months since they'd gone through the "What a Shame" file. Josh had at first tried to wave her off, insisting half-heartedly that he was fine and had plenty to do. But Donna had insisted they spend five minutes going through the file, just because they hadn't in a while, and after giving him her own kicked-puppy face, he'd agreed. She'd flipped through the various pieces of paper randomly. Most were serious ideas, but some were joke Post-Its they'd left each other when they'd gotten punchy that she'd dropped in the file for a laugh later.

"Here's one I think has true merit... 'Amend the Constitution to make it a felony to register Republican.' That's a special kind of genius, you know. You're very smart, Josh, I've always said that about you."

He'd snapped back from the faraway look he'd gotten on his face. "Sure, you say that now. Where were you when I was actively seeking support for the RSA?"

"The RSA?"

"The 'Republicans Suck Amendment'!"

"Ah, sorry."

"They really do, you know. Actually, I think it's more people in general. Or maybe just people who know me. Especially disloyal Congressman who change parties because they don't get all the toys they want when they demand them. Like a spoiled child at Christmastime. Only your children can't officially turn on you, I guess. I'll bet Carrick was a rotten little brat in his day."

"He still is a rotten little brat." They'd shared a smile. "Anyway, that's your five minutes. Get back to..." she'd gestured at his desk and turned to walk out the door.

"Hang on," he'd said, his hand extended for the folder.

"What?"

"Let me see that."

"Josh, we are not going to put time in on the 'Republicans Suck Amendment'!"

"Would you give it to me, please?"

She'd handed the file over hesitantly, and he'd sifted through the sheets as if he already knew what he was looking for. He pulled out one near the top of the stack and read aloud. "A 21st century teacher corps."

"Yeah."

"You know, because of all the baby boomers, I mean they're getting up there, and they're gonna want to...you know...retire."

He was repeating Donna's original statement back to her and trailing off while doing it. She could almost hear the gears turning in his head. She just waited.

"You know, I think Charlie's Teachers might just be ready for Phase Two."

And so it began. The teaching incentives pilot program that Toby, Sam and the President had bounced around a couple years ago during a late-night flight on Air Force One, the same program that Charlie had inadvertently inspired with his scribbling, "Send them to college," thus causing the staff to nickname them "Charlie's Teachers," was about to get a booster shot, Lyman-style.

Josh and Donna had set about getting funding to extend the program. Originally designed to include 100 participants, whose tuition the government paid in exchange for a commitment to teach in an inner-city school after graduation, Josh started working to extend the program to 5,000 enteringfreshmen. It was a big leap, but Josh never did anything small.

After weeks in Leo-imposed exile, Josh was again a man on a mission. He had the glint back in his eyes, he had the purpose back in his stride, and he was hanging his head less and less every day around Leo.

Angela Blake had long since made her discreet exit, and Josh's workload was back to its normal superhuman level. But he still wouldn't let the teachers go, which was what made for the super-long days. And now, as Josh fought down to the wire for the House to approve the funding for Phase Two, Donna had to admit it had most definitely been worth it. He was back, and she'd helped.

If only she could have helped herself a little more. While she'd been slaving away at the White House, life had been going on without her. It always did, but some times it got to her worse than others. This week, she'd fielded calls from her sister, her high-school best friend and her college roommate. Everyone was getting engaged or having a baby or getting promoted, except her. She was getting dinner. For her boss. For herself, yes, but also for her boss. Linner? Could it honestly be dunch? God, she needed help. The luster of working at the White House had worn off years ago for her friends and family. Somehow, over time, it had become less impressive, and she had gone from "working at the White House" to "working for Josh" when they brought it up. Like it was some sort of insult. Add it all together, and it had been a bad week. And it still wasn't nearly over.

She checked her watch as she ducked into Capitol Grille and took her place in line. 4:45. Josh would still be in his meeting on the Hill. He'd seemed outwardly grumpy all day, but those who knew him well knew it was just determination. It was how he got himself psyched up. It was how he prepared to do battle. And with every battle he won, he won back a little of Leo's confidence. And that was really what he was after, even if he wouldn't admit it. Leo. What the hell had been Leo's problem lately, anyway?

So, as a little reward for their hard work, and since lunch had been a bust, they weren't going to eat from the mess tonight. Capitol Grille was the kind of sandwich shop that quickly became local legend. Josh had first taken her there not long after they'd won the White House, and introduced her to the place's signature sandwich — the Capitol Sub, a quite addictive variation on a Philly cheesesteak sandwich that substituted chicken for the beef and added sliced jalapeño peppers. It was the jalapeños that made it a work of art. Donna had fast become a regular, just as Josh predicted she would.

"Donnatella," came the heavily accented call from the owner and head cook, Karim. Donna looked over the counter from her place in line and forced a smile, despite her gloomy mood.

"Don't tell me Josh let you out of work this early," he said jovially, tapping his watch.

Donna had come to love Karim over the years. She played their usual game. "That slave driver? No way. I had to sneak out while he was in a meeting on the Hill, and I'm going back."

Karim nodded understandingly, his usual smile still firmly in place. "Where have you two been hiding?" he said, beckoning her out of line and to the counter. "I haven't seen you in two Sundays."

Donna smiled genuinely now. The Sunday lunches at Capitol Grille had started after Rosslyn, when Josh had healed enough that he was being allowed out of the townhouse for a couple hours at a time, but when Donna still wasn't letting him anywhere near the White House. Capitol Grille had been the closest she'd let him to 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue.

He'd healed and gone back to work, but they still continued the ritual, with very few lapses. The longest had been when he'd been dating Amy and she'd declared Sundays to be "her day with her man." After that had gone bust and Donna had pretended to forgive him, they'd turned back up at Capitol Street Grille one Sunday, and Josh had received a talking-to from Karim. He looked forward to their visits as much as Josh and Donna did. Josh promised no more major lapses for the duration of the administration. It was a promise he had little power to keep, they all knew, but his intent was good. His intent was always good.

"Josh is on a mission," she said, not needing to explain.

"Blue Ribbon Commission again?" Karim asked. A naturalized citizen of Lebanese birth, Karim had a keen interest in government, and always had a new issue to quiz Josh on. He, for one, actually seemed to enjoy hearing Josh prattle on about what he was working on. That was the second reason Josh had become a regular years ago. He liked the food, but he also liked Karim. Then again, Josh liked everybody. Even Amy. Up until recently, that is. Amy had finally stepped in it — again.

"Huh-uh, 21st century teacher corps. Or the start of one anyway," Donna responded.

"Good for you!" Karim responded, his accent still thick, even after many years in the US. "You know, with the baby boomers getting ready to retire we're going to lose —"

"Yeah," Donna said. She had to hear it from Josh, she wasn't going to listen to it from Josh's biggest fan. Not today.

"Well, you'd better bring that boy down for lunch on Sunday," Karim chided. "I want details."

"I'll tell him."

"Okay. You have a call-in?"

Donna had started to dig in her purse and looked up, suddenly sheepish. "Actually I forgot. Maybe it was delirium from hunger..."

Karim frowned. "Didn't you have lunch?"

Okay, time to make a call on that issue once and for all. "Not really, no." What? That's not waffling. That's a firm statement that the jury's still out on whether this is lunch or dinner or...God, she needed sleep.

"Do you want me to lecture you like a mother hen?"

"Not really, no," she repeated, pulling her credit card out and smiling in spite of herself.

"Then don't skip lunch again," he quipped.

"Or don't tell you, at least."

"I would know anyway."

"How?"

"I have my ways," he said, painting a mysterious look on his face that came off as 100 percent comic. His face dissolved into a frown again as he saw the credit card Donna was absent-mindedly tapping against the back of her hand.

She looked down. "What?"

"Modem's been on the blink all morning," he said. "They say they're working on it, but we gave up on running credit cards around lunchtime."

She flipped her wallet open. "I don't have any cash, as usual."

"You'll get me Sunday," he said. "Guarantees me you'll come back."

"No," she said.

"Donnatella, it's not as if don't know where to find you," he said with that mega-watt smile.

"Not gonna do it, Karim," she said. "It'll mess up your receipts and you know Sheila will punish you."

"Sheila's my wife. She won't punish me."

"Sheila's your accountant. She'll punish you at home and at work," she warned.

"You're right, of course," he said. "Never mix the professional with the personal, Donna. It leaves you without a place of refuge."

"Like I would know," she muttered to herself.

"What?"

"Nothing." She forced another smile. "I'm just gonna run to the machine." She motioned to the bank in view out the deli's front windows with the walk-up ATM.

"The usual?" he asked as she turned to leave.

"Yeah, for both of us."

"We've got red velvet cake today!" he called as she opened the door.

"No!" she called back. "I'm watching my sweets."

"What about Josh?"

"If I have to suffer then so does he," she smiled and stepped into the street.

Karim laughed and turned to the grill, determined to have Donna's order ready to go by the time she got back.

She jogged over to the walk-up ATM and inserted her card, squinting at the afternoon sun that was shining directly on the front of the building and causing a wicked glare from the screen. She could barely make out the words on the screen, but she practically had the screen layout memorized anyway.

Which was why she looked at it in confusion when it made an unusual beeping noise at her and stopped responding to any input. She shielded the screen with her hands and leaned close to read it.

"'Card deemed invalid and retained by ATM. Please call customer service at ...' Son of a —"

She jabbed the "cancel" button several more times with her finger threateningly, then swore under her breath. So it now qualified as an extremely bad week. She checked her watch. Three minutes before 5. Well, unfortunately for some poor unsuspecting teller, their day was about to get worse just when they thought they were in the home stretch. This robot was going to give her card back if she had to pry it open with a crow bar. She turned and marched into the bank, oblivious to the consequences that quick decision would have, and unaware of just how bad the day was about to get...for a lot of people.

Because it was so near the close of business, there were only two customers in the lobby when she entered. One was just finishing up with the only open teller. The other was studiously filling out a deposit slip near the door.

The security guard, who'd been pacing slowly around the lobby, held the door for her when she entered and smiled. She forced a friendly "thank you" and smiled back. After all, she reminded herself, it wasn't his fault. It was just that the fates were conspiring against her this week.

She approached the counter and the teller asked for the hundredth time that day, "How may I help you?" Her will to be overly friendly had long since waned.

"Well, I was using the ATM outside," Donna gestured over her shoulder toward the door. "And it ate my card."

"I'm sorry. Did you enter the wrong PIN number?" The woman said absent-mindedly as she pulled out a form and started going through the checklist.

"No," Donna said. "Everything was fine, right up until the moment when it ate my card."

"Did you try to overdraw on your account?"

"Did I try to...what kind of question—" Donna started.

"They're just the questions on the form, ma'am. I have to ask them," the woman said in monotone.

"Okay. Look, I understand that there is procedure, and you've got to do this by a certain...thing and everything but I am going to be able to get it back today, right? I mean it's a machine error and I really can't be without my card all weekend."

"If we can get all our questions answered, we should be able to get it back for you," the teller said, a bit of understanding creeping into her voice. "When was the last time you were able to use it successfully?"

Donna was busy trying to remember, trying to race the clock, trying to do a million things at once, so she didn't hear the older security guard politely having a conversation with two men entering the lobby.

"I'm sorry gentlemen, the bank has closed for the day and we're only helping customers already in line," the older security guard said kindly. "If you'd like to use the automated teller or come back in the morning after 8 a.m. —"

He'd lifted his arm to gesture toward the walk-up ATM, and the customer who'd been working on his deposit slip at the nearby counter took the opportunity to grab the gun from the guard's holster in a motion so swift it caught the older man completely by surprise.

The two men at the front entrance were anything but surprised, however, pulling large guns of their own out of their jackets. "Get in there," the taller one growled. The security guard's face went blank, and he slowly stepped back into the lobby.

It was the jingling of the keys as they turned in the front door that caught the teller's attention. She and Donna were still going through the form, so they couldn't start shutdown procedures for the night. "Fred, I've still got a cus— " she looked up from the counter and her face went white.

Donna turned without thinking to see what had gotten the teller's attention, and her heart dropped into her stomach.

The security guard was walking slowly into the lobby, face drawn, hands up by his shoulders. The man from the deposit counter and the taller man from the front door were behind him. One had the guard's own gun trained on him. The other swung his on the lobby at large.

_Oh God, _Donna thought. _Oh God, oh God, oh God._

"Okay everybody, there's no need to panic," the taller one said as the third man locked the door with the guard's keys. "This is going to be over really quickly and no one is going to get hurt at all, because everyone's going to cooperate."


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

Josh entered the northwest lobby at a full swagger, and had his arms half-raised over his head in victory before he realized Donna wasn't standing there waiting on him. Hmph. His victorious entrance had been cut short. Well, he'd just have to be louder about it when he found her in the bullpen. He had wrangled the Blue Dogs back across party lines and Phase Two was one step closer to becoming a reality for Charlie's Teachers.

He practically skipped into the bullpen, but his face dropped a little when she wasn't at her desk. He continued into his office, tossing his backpack in one of the visitor's chairs. _Not here either,_ he thought. He pulled a bright green Post-It off his computer monitor and was trying to decipher it when Sam popped his head in the door.

"How'd it go with the Blue Dogs?"

"I am the master of all I survey," Josh replied, smiling.

"Really?" Sam asked, changing course and coming all the way in the room and approaching the desk. "Blankenship?"

"Got him," Josh replied, his brow furrowed as he studied the Post-It again.

"You really are the master," Sam said, his voice filled with genuine awe.

"Excuse me," CJ said from the door. "If you two would prefer a little privacy, I'll —"

"Hey," Sam said, "A battle hard-fought deserves a little appreciation, and that's what I'm all about. I'm Mr. Appreciative."

Silence descended on the room.

"Okay, I think what I'm gonna do, is I'm just gonna start taking a minute tohear it in my head first before I —"

"Yeah," CJ said. "Come on, Leo's ready for us early."

Sam started out the door and turned around to see Josh still distracted by the Post-It. "You coming?"

"Yeah," Josh said. "What the hell does that even say?" he muttered before dropping it on his desk and following Sam out the door and toward Leo's office.

"What was it?" Sam asked.

"Oh, a note from Donna," Josh responded, waving back toward his office. "I take it she's gone somewhere, something about Karen and carpool suds. Or possibly carp tonsils, I don't know, it's..."

"Stylistic penmanship," Sam nodded knowingly.

"To be considered literate you have to be able to speak, read and write the language. I honestly think Donna just got the third one in under the wire," Josh groused as they walked into Leo's office.

"How'd it go?" Leo asked, taking his glasses off and coming to lean on the front of the desk as Toby hustled in.

"The Blue Dogs?" Josh pretended to wonder what Leo meant.

"Yeah."

"They saw the light. Phase Two for Charlie's teachers is gonna sail in the House," Josh said, relishing the look of satisfaction that swept over Leo's face.

"And you are the master of all you survey," Leo finished knowingly.

"Yes, and in other title developments, Sam just dubbed himself Mr. Appreciative," Josh added.

"I did not!"

"Sure you did," CJ piped up, sliding her glasses up the bridge of her nose a little. "I was standing right there in Josh's office when you said it."

"You're both traitors," Sam pointed at the two of them, his face serious.

"What the hell does 'Mr. Appreciative' even mean?" Leo said, looking past Sam a little as if lost in thought. "Appreciative of what?"

"Among other things, he's appreciative of the fact that he is an _enormous_ freak," Toby deadpanned from his spot at the table. "Then again, that's not news to anyone here."

"What are you appreciative of, Sam?" Leo pressed again, as Sam glared at Toby.

"No one in this room," he snapped as he dropped into one of the high backed chairs.

"Did Blankenship cry like a little girl?" Leo turned back to Josh, smiling widely.

"No tears actually fell, but I swear to you, Leo, that man left the room and called his mommy," Josh joked. Leo let out a small laugh. Josh beamed. He was back. God, it had been a good day.

"So, Josh is master of all he surveys and Sam is appreciative, although it's still unclear of what exactly," Leo continued to grin a little, despite himself. "CJ, what's the press on about this afternoon?"

Everyone stood frozen as it took a few seconds for the reality of the situation to sink in.

"Folks, I'm serious," the tall one said, his voice deceptively calm and almost polite. "This will only take a little while and then we'll be out of your hair. Now, if you'd all just step over here please, slowly."

It took Donna a second to will her feet to listen to her brain, but they started moving eventually and she backed away from the counter toward the far wall the man indicated. The security guard moved to join her.

_Oh God, oh God, oh God._

She kept backing up until she hit the wall, then stopped, staring, wide-eyed at the three. She was vaguely aware of the security guard standing to her left, but he somehow seemed very far away.

"Ma'am," came the leader's voice again. Donna startled and looked at him. He was talking to the teller, who, in total denial and shock over the situation, hadn't moved at all. Her pen was still poised over Donna's form, but her head was slowly shaking back and forth, almost willing the situation to be untrue.

"This way, please," the leader motioned with the gun. The woman finally moved, in very wobbly steps, down from her post and toward the wall.

"How many other people are still here?" the leader asked her.

She looked at him as if she didn't understand a word he'd said.

"How many?" he said, his voice not rising at all over the library tone he'd been using since he walked in, but increasing in ferocity all the same.

The security guard briefly looked to the ceiling, as if thinking, then cleared his throat softly, "Five," he said. "The branch manager, two more tellers who should still be counting out their tills, and there are two loan officers in the back who haven't left yet."

The leader nodded courteously in his direction and offered the hint of a smile. "Thank you." He looked at the other two. "Go."

The other two headed off toward the offices behind the teller counter to round up the others. The leader kept his gun trained on Donna and the two bank employees.

"Now, this is gonna be a piece of cake," he said. "Sir, if you'll slowly slide your wallet out of your pocket and drop it on the floor."

The security guard did so, looking considerably calmer than he had when the whole thing had started.

"Now, kick it toward me, please."

The guard complied.

"Same thing with the belt. Slowly." The leader's eyes flicked to the policeman's utility belt the guard wore. The holster was now empty, but most of the other gadgets were still in place.

The guard slowly undid the belt buckle and gently laid it on the ground. He kicked it gently toward the leader and it slid across the marble floor, the metal instruments in it making loud scraping sounds as it went.

"And miss, if you'll just set your purse on the floor, please," Donna had been absorbed in the scraping sound and it took her a second to realize he was talking to her.

"That's right," the man confirmed, polite as ever. "If you'll just set it on the floor and kick it this way please."

Donna took the straps of her fake Kate Spade purse and slid the bag off her shoulder. She and Carol had been so excited when they'd gotten them. Margaret had thrown a very hush-hush fake Kate Spade party one weekend, and Carol and Donna had both been lusting after the designer bags for a long time. Carol had bought a red one and had been the envy of CJ that Monday. Josh said he'd never seen a more perfectly box-shaped bag in his life and continued into his office, completely unimpressed. The straps were almost long enough to allow the purse to reach the floor when she held them in her hand, and she dropped it by her feet. She took the inside of her foot and gave the black nylon bag a push. It slid across the floor easily and stopped when it hit the toe of the leader's shoe.

"Thank you," he said as the remaining bank employees were herded out into the lobby and took their place beside the others on the wall, looking shaken and in utter disbelief. The leader went about collecting the men's wallets. The women who worked there didn't have their purses with them.

Donna continued to stare at her bag on the floor. Josh was right. It really was perfectly box-shaped. Josh. She was beginning to feel lightheaded, and her knees were about to buckle, she was sure.

"Alright folks, this is what we're gonna do," the leader stated as the other two took up position guarding the eight. "I want to take just a moment to clarify that yes, this is exactly what you think it is. Stop trying to convince yourselves that it's not what it looks like. Just be assured that this is, indeed, really happening."

Donna heard the teller beside her stifle a sob.

"As I said before, there is no need to panic. We have a plan in place, and it will be quickly and efficiently executed. Absolutely no one is going to get hurt, because we're all going to keep cooperating just like we've been doing." The leader looked up and down the line. "So if you'll just do as we say, we'll be out of here sooner than you can imagine, and you'll all be home in time for dinner."

The group just stared at him wide-eyed.

"Alright. Have a seat please." He motioned with the gun, a semi-automatic weapon, Donna noticed for the first time, to the marble floor. God, she hated guns. She heard the others moving beside her and remembered the order. Grateful she didn't have to keep standing anymore, she allowed her knees to fold, as they'd been wanting to, and slid down the wall to the floor.

"Not you, sir," the leader indicated a bespectacled man near the end of the line who wore a gold nametag with "Branch Manager" under his name. "Mr. Williams," the leader read the tag as he called the man out of line. "If you please," he indicated the back of the bank again. The bank manager nodded and stepped slowly in the direction of the vault, followed by the shortest of the robbers, the one who'd been pretending to fill out his deposit slip so diligently. He hoisted a large bag onto his shoulder that the other one had been carrying until now.

The other, the door man, who was the biggest and strongest-looking of the bunch, kept his gun trained on the group, which was now settled on the floor. The leader adjusted the front blinds, re-checked the door, and turned off some lights in the front area of the lobby, making it look to the outside world like the bank was closing for business.

The outside world...Donna looked out the window as the last of the blinds were closed. Across the street, Karim's place disappeared behind the horizontal slats. She felt like the whole world was falling away from her. When it started, all she could think was _oh God, oh God, oh God._ Now, she struggled for any thought. Any whatsoever. Everything was a complete blank; it was like her brain wasn't functioning.

"You checked the back exit?" the leader asked the strong one professionally. The strong one nodded. "Good, we're in business."

"We are officially in business," the short man declared as he followed the branch manager back out of the area. "Decryption program's running as we speak."

"Outstanding," the leader smiled. God, how could he be so civil in the middle of what he was doing? "You see, folks, like I said, home in time for dinner," the leader said as the shorter one indicated to Mr. Williams to rejoin the group.

Donna pulled her knees to her chest and stared at the pattern in the green and tan marble floor. _They honestly don't seem out to hurt us, _she thought. _Maybe, just maybe, they'll get what they want and go. And this will end up being a story I tell when people start talking about dark moments in their past after a few too many beers. They've got a plan. If he's telling the truth, this won't last long, and we might just be OK._ Trouble was, few things in life go according to plans, and Donna knew it.

_No,_ she thought as she fought the sting in her eyes. _It isn't over. It isn't nearly over._


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3 **

Evening staff meeting ended up lasting close to an hour. Josh had come down off his victory high a little as he listened to CJ talk about an unnamed White House source that gave Steve a quote that had him jumping up and down, and listened as Toby and Sam talked about their progress on the President's address for next week at the United Nations. But as he crossed the northwest lobby again headed for the bullpen, his excitement returned anew. Donna was going to be so happy.No one had expected him to be able to sew up the votes for the funding in this meeting. They were, he decided, going home at a decent hour tonight. They'd earned it. Both of them. Donna really deserved the credit for getting him started on this anyway.

"Donnatella Moss!" he shouted as he burst through the double doors into the bullpen. Everyone was working away, and most barely noticed him as he came in shouting. It was, after all, an hourly occurrence.

"I don't think she's here," Ryan offered.

"What makes you say that?"

"I don't see her anywhere."

"Ah. Okay. She hasn't come back at all since I've been in staff?"

"I haven't seen her since I came back an hour ago," Ryan offered, "But that doesn't mean she isn't here somewhere. I honestly didn't even know you were in staff."

"Okay, well, I'm gonna go in my office for a little bit and you should, you know, continue standing there, taking up valuable space and breathing air that could be put to better use elsewhere."

"Will do," Ryan said as Josh turned and went back into his office.

Where had she gone again? He picked up the green Post-It he'd left on his desk. As often happened with Donna's stylistic penmanship, a second look worked like a decoder ring and he could read it clearly:

Josh,

Going to Karim's for Capitol Subs. Couldn't bear the thought of another meal from the mess! Back before you know it. Don't spoil your dinner!

Donna

"Capitol Subs!" he said out loud. _Well, that makes a hell of a lot more sense than carp tonsils. _He looked at the clock, wondering when she'd left. 6:07. His mouth watered in anticipation of Karim's handiwork. He picked up a briefing memo and settled down in his chair, throwing his feet up on the desk.

_You'd better hurry, Donna, _he thought to himself. _War makes a man hungry, and only a meal fit for the master of all he surveys will do._

6:07. Donna stared at the clock high on the wall. She was feeling much calmer about the situation. The three of them seemed calm, so that made her feel calm. She wasn't lightheaded anymore and was almost thinking normally again. The leader was still in the lobby with them, but the strong one had gone into the back about ten minutes earlier, when the short one had let out a whoop and declared success with the vault. The bank manager had looked at one of the other employees nervously when it happened. Donna didn't think he should worry. They weren't going to hold him responsible for this. He did what he was told to do. He did what was smart. He didn't upset their plans. That was going to work out best for everyone.

She could hear the two of them moving things around in the back. She assumed they were moving money out of the vault. She found herself briefly wondering how much money was in a small branch vault like this. More than enough to pay all her bills and leave her with enough for a cabana in Hawaii and a villa in the Mediterranean. She almost smiled at the thought. But a ragged breath drawn by the teller next to her brought her back to reality. She chided herself silently. This wasn't a game of "What Would You Do If You Won the Lottery?" She briefly wondered if she wasn't a little hysterical to be thinking about it. Well, whether or not she was, she felt calm, anyway. And she was glad of that.

The dinner rush was in full swing across the street at Capitol Grille, and Karim had been his usual busy self, cooking like a madman and chatting up his customers. It was only when he caught sight of a take-out order still sitting on the front counter that he took a moment to glance at the ticket. His brow furrowed when he read "Donnatella" in his own handwriting. He'd finished her order, what, an hour ago?

"Sarah," Karim called to the Georgetown student running the register. "Donna never came to pick up her order?"

Sarah walked over and looked at the ticket, her young face contorting a little as she read. "I haven't seen her since she was talking to you earlier," Sarah said. "I didn't even realize this was sitting here. To be honest, in the dinner rush I'd forgotten all about her."

"Yes. I just assumed she'd come back while I was busy," Karim replied.

"Maybe something happened and she had to go back in to work," Sarah offered.

"Maybe," Karim said, glancing across the street as he remembered Donna's trip to the ATM. "But she said she was just going to the teller machine, and then she was headed back to the White House anyway."

"Well, maybe it was an emergency," Sarah reasoned. "They could have called her cell phone, and maybe there wasn't really time to come back. Do you want me to have it delivered?"

"We could call her and ask, I suppose," Karim said distractedly. "Her number should be in the call-in customer database."

Sarah nodded and headed to the touch screen behind the register.

Karim was still staring at the bank thoughtfully. Something just didn't seem right. "But...she was just running across the street for some cash, I don't understand why she couldn't just stop back by. What could have been that urgent?"

"No, I know, 'cause it's just the White House,"Sarah joked good-naturedly, scrolling through the customer database. "Oh, and speaking of cash, the modem's up again."

Karim didn't answer. Something was off. He wasn't a superstitious man. He'd seen too much in his life to believe in hokum. But something about the appearance of the bank, about Donna, about the whole situation, was making the hair on the back of his neck stand on end. Then the pieces fell into place. The blinds. The blinds in the lobby were never closed. They were always left open, so the lobby could be clearly seen at night.

"Sarah, has Fred come by yet tonight?"

"Haven't seen him yet," Sarah said, still scrolling through the database. Fred was the security guard at the bank across the street and a regular at Capitol Grille. On Friday nights, he'd get a take-out order for him and his wife on his way home from work. It was Friday, and the bank had closed an hour ago. These weren't appointments, Karim realized. These people didn't have some obligation to stop by. But Karim knew his business and he knew his clientele. An uneasy feeling started creeping up his spine.

"Sarah, let me know as soon as you get Donna," he said before turning to take another order.

Ten minutes later, Sarah gave her boss an update.

"Karim!" she called over the sizzle of the grill. "I got Donna's voicemail, so I left a message."

"Voicemail?" Karim turned around. "We have her cell number?"

"Yeah," Sarah nodded, "That's what I called."

The uneasy feeling grew worse. "Fred come by yet?"

"No," Sarah answered, her curiosity growing with her boss's distress.

"Okay, you know what," he said, flipping a portion of sauteed peppers and onions on the griddle expertly. Go back in my office and pull Donna's card out of the Rolodex for me. Donna Moss."

"I _know_," she chided him gently as she headed to the back of the store. She grew serious. "Hey, what are you thinking?"

"Nothing," Karim said as he scooped another hot portion of meat and vegetables into a bun. "Probably nothing."

Josh was elbow deep in the briefing memo when he heard Ryan's shout from the bullpen.

"Josh! Line 3!"

"Who?" Josh shouted back.

Ryan appeared at the door and sighed heavily, as if contemplating the meaning of life. "I do not know."

"You're a big help, you know that?" Josh said before stabbing Line 3. The Caller ID read "Capitol Grille."

He smiled and picked up the phone, "You'd better not be calling me to say they're out of Capitol Subs, 'cause Donna, I'm a man with a victory tonight. I'm a victorious man and I'm in need of a victory meal."

On the other end of the line, Karim didn't laugh at the joke. Donna wasn't at work, and Josh believed she was here, and she wasn't answering her cell. "Josh?"

Josh's face fell abruptly when it wasn't Donna on the other end of the line. "Karim?"

"Yeah."

Josh was thoroughly confused. "What's going on?"

The conversation that followed had set Josh swinging on an emotional pendulum. Karim had apologized for calling Josh at work, explaining that he had Donna's card, which had the White House switchboard number on it. He'd asked if Donna was there, even though he knew the answer. Karim told Josh about his conversation with Donna, about the unclaimed takeout order, and how he'd started to worry when he hadn't seen another of his regulars from the bank. Josh had gone from confused to interested to concerned.

"When did she leave the shop?"

"About 5."

Josh looked at his watch. 6:36.

"Five!" he yelled. Dread started winding his stomach into knots immediately.

"Yeah, but like I said, I've seen nothing to make me think...it's just this silly thing with the blinds," Karim said, walking toward the front of the store again with the shop's cordless phone.

"Okay, you know what, I'm gonna call somebody at MPDC. Have them drive by or something. They'll know if it's anything," Josh said, mind already racing.

"It may be nothing," Karim said again.

"Well, maybe, but if you think it might be something and I think it might be something, then...it just doesn't sound like Donna."

"No," Karim said in agreement.

"Okay. Thanks for calling."

"Josh? You'll keep me informed?"

Josh smiled. Karim was a good man. He loved Donna. Everyone who'd ever met Donna loved her. "Of course. Bye."

Josh called the front desk and confirmed what time Donna had signed out. After trying Donna's cell phone with no luck, he called Bob Linden, a detective Sam knew at MPDC. He and Toby wereholed up in Toby's office working on the speech, so he called Ginger and got the name and number with no explanation as to why. It really didn't matter that it wasn't Sam calling. Josh may be next to unrecognizable in most of the country, but inside the Beltway, his was a name people knew. He'd explained the situation to Det. Linden, who'd listened intently.He told Josh he'd check into it, and would call him back, saying they'd probably send an officer to drive by the bank.

Barely five minutes had passed when his direct line rang again. He snatched it up, hoping that it was Donna calling to apologize for some mishap that had held her up. Instead, it was Linden, a little more frantic than the last time they'd talked.

"You said that was the branch on E Street?" Linden asked.

"Yeah, right off 14th."

"Okay. Hang on." Josh could hear Linden speaking excitedly with someone in the background. "Okay, Mr. Lyman, we're going to send a couple guys by there and I'm gonna get back to you."

"What's going on?"

"Nothing. Nothing yet. I just wanted to double-check the location," Linden hedged.

"Well...is there —"

"I'll call you as soon as I know something," Linden said, and hung up.

Josh's heart was pounding in his ears. Linden already thought he knew something, but he wasn't sharing yet. He looked at the clock. 6:43. There was nothing Josh could do but wait.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Her cell phone had rung at least three times, only it was on silent, so it just vibrated in her blazer pocket. She sent up a prayer of thanks that she hadn't left the ringer on. She can imagine the robbers wouldn't have taken lightly to her keeping the phone during the incident. She'd honestly forgotten all about it until the first call came. She'd nearly jumped out of her skin, but only the security guard had seemed to notice anything was different. To calm herself, Donna had taken to watching the second hand on the oversized clock in the lobby. She gave her full attention to each tick, counted each second meticulously. Anything to keep her distracted. The more time passed, the closer they were to getting out of this. She counted a few more ticks as the second hand swung into an upright position. 6:43.

"Ready to roll," the shorter one said as he came back into the lobby.

"Everything's by the back exit?" the leader asked.

"Yeah."

"Surveillance?"

"Like I said, security cameras all tape to a room in the back. I've got all the tapes. Not that it will matter once we get where we're —"

"Shut up!" the leader turned the gun on his colleague momentarily, but they were too far away for anyone to take advantage of the situation.

The entire group had been too stunned to move anyway. It was the loudest the leader had been since this ordeal started. He regained his calm demeanor quickly.

"What did I say to you about being a stupid common thief and running your mouth too much?"

The shorter one just hung his head, appropriately chastised.

"Go ahead and get them ready," the leader nodded to the group. The shorter one nodded and reached into the black bag he'd taken back toward the vault. He pulled out a handful of large plastic cable ties.

_Oh God,_ Donna thought. This was new. This wasn't a part of the plan they'd mentioned before.

"Ladies and gentlemen, we're going to be taking our leave of your momentarily," the leader began, polite as ever. "We want to thank you for your cooperation."

The shorter man started at the end of the line, tying the hands and feet of the bank employees with the cable ties.

"We're going to need a delay before you call the authorities," the leader said by way of explanation. "I'm sure you underst—"

"Shit!" they heard the third robber cry out from the back, followed by his heavy footfalls as he ran in their direction. "Bernard, we've got the cops out back!"

"What?" the leader instantly forgot about lacing into the strong one for using his name when he heard the news. "How?" he asked as the shorter one went to investigate.

"How the hell do I know?" the strong one shouted at him.

"Keep your voice down!" Bernard warned.

"Patrol car, looks like a drive-by in the back," the shorter one advised as he made his way to the other side of the lobby. "Dammit, we've got one in the front, too!"

The strong one all of a sudden looked like a caged animal. Bernard wasn't far off, his plans obviously gone more than awry. He turned back to the short one. "You said you had countermeasures for all the vault alarms!"

"I did! I used them! It might just be standard, Bernard, just a double-check, but the second car makes me nervous." There was a pause. He needed orders. "Now what?"

Bernard's breathing had gotten heavier, and he forced himself to slow down. "First things first," he said. "Get on the scanner, find out what's going on." He turned to the third one, "Take care of them," he gestured to the group, where the shorter one had left off with the cable ties.

The strong one moved toward the group, and Bernard turned back to the shorter one. "We waited until after hours, the surveillance tapes are kept in-house, we didn't force the lock on the vault..."

"We didn't even touch the ATM," the shorter one said, continuing the list of what they did right, "And there was only one teller on duty when it went down, so unless there was a silent alarm I didn't detect —"

"YOU!" Bernard charged to the teller beside Donna. The strong one had just secured the teller's hands and was working on her feet. "Did you trip a fucking silent alarm!" The teller, Patti, according to her nametag, just cried hysterically. "DID YOU!" Bernard demanded, all semblance of his earlier civility gone.

"N-no," she whispered.

"Lying bitch!" he screamed, kicking at her.

"I didn't," Patti insisted, hysterically.

"You're lying! Don't. Fucking. LIE. To. Me!" he said, getting in her face with the gun. He looked down at her nametag. "It's not nice to lie to people who've asked for your cooperation, Patti. That's poor customer service. What do you think should happen to employees who don't provide good customer service?" he said maniacally, tilting the gun close to her head.

Patti was screaming incoherently at this point, babbling on about how they didn't have silent alarms at the teller windows anymore because they'd been set off too easily by accident in the past and begging not to be hurt.

Donna's heart had never gone out more to another human being in her life. The guy was actually enjoying scaring her to death. And all she had done was get out of bed and come to work that morning.

"She said she didn't do it."

_Whoa. Who said that?_

Bernard turned his head to Donna. "What?"

_Oh, shit. Was that me? Did I say that?_

She swallowed hard. "Sh-she said she didn't do it. She's too afraid to lie. She froze when you came in the door, do you really think she tripped an alarm? She's just scared."

_Well, that almost sounded like her voice._

Bernard smiled. Donna was astonished at how wicked-looking he'd become in the last few minutes. She wondered if she'd just made the stupidest mistake of her life.

"What's your name?" Bernard said.

"W-What?" Donna wasn't sure she'd heard him right.

"What's your name?" Bernard repeated. Donna stared, wide-eyed. "Come on, I know everybody else's name." He used the barrel of his gun as a pointer. "I know Patti's name." Patti flinched and continued to sob quietly. "I know Mr. Williams' name down there. I know..." he took a moment to glance at the security guard's tag. "I know Fred's name over here. But _you_," he jabbed the gun at her a little for emphasis and she flinched in spite of herself, "don't have a nametag. What's. Your. Name."

She would have answered him. Really, she would have. But the moment she looked directly at the barrel of the gun pointed at her chest, she lost the power of speech completely.

Bernard leered. "You don't have to tell me. I can find out myself."

He jumped up and took the two steps to where her purse still was on the floor with all the wallets. He kicked it over and several of her things spilled out. He picked up the wallet and flipped it open. Donna couldn't breathe.

"Donnatella Moss," he read from her driver's license, coming back to stand over her. "5761 Belmont Road Northwest, Apartment 216...God, that's a scary neighborhood at night!" he exclaimed as he flipped the wallet closed and tossed it back on the floor. "What's a pretty girl like you with a pretty name like that doing living in such a dump?" He kneeled back down in front of her. The strong one had moved around and was securing Fred's hands and feet, but Donna hadn't noticed.

Bernard picked up one of the cable ties and leaned forward, pushing her hands behind her back. As he reached behind her, he whispered in her ear. "I never forget a name or a face. And I never forget a back talker. 5761 Belmont, Number 216? I'll have to drop by one day, when all this is over. Then you and I will spend some time catching up, Donnatella Moss. Just the two of us."

He cinched the cable tie so tight it bit into her skin, but it was his threat the caused the cry that escaped her lips.

He stood up and smiled, before going back to the short one for an update.

They spoke in hushed tones, the short one telling Bernard about scanner traffic that talked about citizen reports of suspicious activity at the bank, and some kind of possible silent alarm at the same location.

Donna didn't hear any of it. She leaned her head forward, her forehead on her drawn-up knees, and rocked back and forth slightly, trying to calm her nerves. She couldn't slow her breathing down, and the lightheadedness was back with a vengeance. She thought she was going to cry. No, she was crying. This had to stop. If he saw her crying, that would just make it worse.

She heard a tiny whisper come from her right. "Thank you." It was Patti.

Donna looked over at her. She was still obviously upset, but she had calmed down considerably. Donna actually found herself smiling just bit. "You're welcome," she said, and found she actually meant it. The exchange renewed her strength, and she leaned her head back against the marble, trying to forget the smell of Bernard's aftershave and the feel of his stubble against her cheek. Her tears were quickly subsiding.

"You OK?" came another whisper. This time she looked to the security guard on the left. Donna bit her lower lip; it was still trembling a little.

"Yeah," she nodded quickly.

"You did good," the guard said with a little smile. "I know it might not feel that way, but you did. You kept your head and you got him off of Patti. That was nice of you." He glanced up at the three, who were still discussing their new situation. "I'm Fred Garfield."

"Donna Moss. Well...I guess you knew that," she smiled ruefully.

"I did," Fred said with a hint of a grin.

"Yeah."

"Well, Donna, you've done your good deed for the day," he said.

She looked him in the face, realizing her tears were now completely gone. "Fred, you've just done yours."

They cut the conversation short as Bernard and the other two broke apart.

"Josh," Ryan appeared in his doorway. "A Detective Linden, line 2."

Josh snatched the receiver off the base. "Josh Lyman."

"It's Linden. Have you heard anything from Ms. Moss?"

"No."

"OK." He took a deep breath. "I may have something for you."

Josh was too busy trying to swallow the lump in his throat to answer, but after a moment, Linden continued anyway.

"There was a silent alarm tripped at that branch about half an hour ago, which would indicate that the vault was opened without the proper access codes, that it was somehow electronically jimmied. We sent two patrol cars to do drive-bys, and they indicated that there were several cars left in employee parking in the back, and, like your citizen report, that the blinds were drawn in the front. That's against procedure; you want your lobby visible to the street at all times. So we contacted their corporate headquarters. The E Street branch hasn't filed their nightly electronic reports yet, which should have been done more than an hour ago. We may have a situation."

Josh took another beat, then found his voice. "And...what are you saying, that Donna's...that Donna's inside?"

"We don't know who's inside. Let me be very clear, we don't know for sure what's going on. We're following procedure and taking the next steps right now, but even if this is what we think it is, there's nothing to indicate that Ms. Moss is inside." Linden took a breath, then added, "Except that the last time someone saw her she was headed for the ATM, and apparently no one's heard from her since."

Josh already had his elbows on the desk, and his head in the hand that wasn't holding the phone, but the room was spinning in ten different directions at once. "Oh, God. OK. OK," he closed his eyes and rubbed at the bridge of his nose. "Assuming that Donna is in there, that anyone is in there and there's a...a thing in progress. What's next?"

"We're doing what we do. We're taking the next steps."

"What are the next steps?"

Linden sighed. Civilians usually weren't privy to procedure, but these were unusual circumstances.

"We've got more manpower on the way to the bank now. They'll try to make contact with whoever's inside. If this is all some mix-up and the staff is in there slacking off, we'll know that soon enough. But with all these different reports...if it's something else, we'll know that too, and then we'll get into it."

"What does 'get into it' mean?" Josh asked, his voice getting louder by the second.

"When I find out, I'll let you know. Stay by your phone."

Josh heard the click and the subsequent dial tone and thought he would be physically ill.

"Hey."

He nearly jumped out of his skin. He hadn't even seen Sam standing in the door. "How long have you been there?"

"What's going on?" Sam asked, concern evident on his face.

"I..." Josh looked back down at the phone. He had no earthly idea where to begin.

Sam began for him. "Ginger said you asked for Bob Linden's number."

"Yeah," Josh inhaled and decided to get it all out in one breath. "Donna left here before 5 to go down to Capitol Grille. Karim called and said she went to the ATM at the bank across the street and was supposed to come back, but never did. She's not answering her cell. And now they've had a silent alarm tripped at the bank. They think something might be happening and...and that's the last place Donna was headed that anybody knew."

"My God," Sam whispered, approaching the desk. "What did Bob say?"

"He said that they're not 100 percent sure, they're taking steps to confirm. And even if it is what they think it is, there's no evidence that Donna is or isn't in the bank. Except, you know, she isn't here. She isn't answering her phone. And we can't find her anywhere else, so..." He let out a shaky breath. "I don't really know what to do now."

"Bob's gonna keep you updated?"

"Yeah."

"OK. Well, I think for starters, I mean I know this isn't a political...whatever, but I think for starters, you might wanna tell Leo."

Josh jerked his head up as if the idea had just occurred to him. "You think there's anything he can do?"

"Not right now. Not that you're not doing already, but, you know, just to keep him in the loop," Sam said.

"Yeah. Yeah, OK. You're right." Josh stood up and started to the door. Sam stopped him with a hand on his arm. "Do you wanna bring in Toby and CJ?"

"I don't want to DO anything with it yet, I don't even —"

"Josh, I'm not talking about spin strategy here, come on. I'm asking if you want them to know."

"Oh," Josh thought for a second. "Yeah."

"You want me to tell them while you're in with Leo?"

"Yeah."

"OK. Go."

The two of them turned and headed off in opposite directions.


End file.
